A Cool London Pad Until Disaster Hit

I hitched an apartment in just my kind of place. If I have to live in centre city. It must be glam. I cannot bear to be stuck in any kind of dump. Partly because I am rather past the bend on the road of living cheap. Partially due also, to being somewhat spoilt in ways of being a lucky one, at spotting a good catch. This might be because I know the city like the back of my hand. I managed to dig out the best at best price-rate too. The one thing I have recognised about city living is, there is always a fly in the ointment. No matter how lucky you think are on catching a bargain.

On this catch, an apartment I caught had marble floors, a Jacuzzi with glitzy accessories. I was immersed within the equestrian world at the time. Keeping one horse at a stables besides a London park. Not too far from the city, set within a delightful London suburb filtering with greenery. Therefore, everyday I dressed in horse-riding attire. I was training one horse for three day eventing.

On feeling proud of my catch with my ne London pad. Close to a trendy part of town. Marble arch in-fact. A famous hanging spot stood nearby the location. Which is where they used to hang criminals in days gone by. This is also fairly nearby our British prime ministers other London residence. No, not number ten Downing Street. The other one in Connaught Square. This fine apartment catch was a few minutes walk from my son's first school. I was pretty chuffed.

The apartment was tucked away in one of the delightful London mews. Those streets which run round the back of formal houses, like hideaway dens. Pavestones run along outside holding original stones. They were once the paths used by horses and carriages. Plus, the servants of London's aristocracies used them as their homes. Now costing a fine penny. Some of these places are protected by 'English Heritage'. An establishment for protecting historical properties and landmarks in England and I'm assuming Wales too.

Everything seemed to fit in with my circumstances of life. I dressed each day in equestrian attire, I owned an old range -rover falling apart at it's seams, but it got me from A to Z. I'd hitched it cheap, when I was last in Scotland. I was up in the hills training horses at a well known centre, called 'Gleneagles Equestrian Centre'. The one by the golf course, up there, about an hour out of Edinburgh city. Unfortunately the equestrian centre is now closed. The golf course 'Gleneagles', which was, attached to the equestrian centre while I was training one of my horse's. In all, it's business artefact's, is still open, but now unattached. Sounds a bit like me in-fact.

I often took morning breakfast with my youngest son's. I had two remaining, from my flock of four son's, who still required my motherly presence. The action now begins to unfold within as the tables turned.

I settled in, as one does. I was very excited about my new pad. I thought the coast was clear in almost all the various pros and cons. For the first few days, I rolled into a morning routine which comprised of a school run dropping my tots off. My boys being small. Then I steered directly to the stables. Put in three to four hours training. Drove back to city centre, to collect the kids. I then moved onto my evening routine. Life seemed but a dream, until things began to heat up a bit in various ways around my new pad.

Over the course of the next few days. I recognised the owner of my new pad had been staring at me from his office windows across the road. I ignored his staring. Shrugged it off. One evening, I had to pop into his office about something I couldn't understand with switches, connected to my new pad. He was the owner. On popping in, he was alone. He invited me to sit down. I refused, I said, 'I have to hurry back to the kids'. He began to explain, that he and his wife were not at all happy. His marriage was a sham and went on to ask me, 'if I'd like to join him for a drink'. He said 'he'd be delighted'. I remained polite, ignored his comments. I never said anything in relation to them other than 'I see'. I then thanked him for his instructions on my electric switch issues and politely left.

On my return to my apartment, I thought things over. I thought, the poor wife, another stale marriage. I never even knew he was married. I hadn't taken the slightest bit of notice of what he was doing. I'd been too busy settling in. As my new landlord had pulled the dirt out from under his carpet himself. Over the next few days, I recognised he hadn't stopped staring at me, however now he was making it more obvious. I also noticed his wife leaving his office in a huff. I assume the woman was his wife. Not only was she leaving his office in a huff, she stared over towards my apartment with dirty looks. I'd done absolutely nothing to initiate such behaviour. I thought to myself, oh no, trust my luck. I find the ideal apartment, then get stuck in the middle of a burnt out marriage and the husband fancies me. I decided to ignore the landlord and his wife and get on with my life. I had a boyfriend, but he was out of town. I am the faithful kind. I was so surprised at what had occurred the evening I'd popped in to my landlords office. I couldn't really explain my aghast, at how fast some men pull strings.

Over the next few weeks, I recognised the miserable married pair opposite me quarrelling. I felt stuck in the middle, like an out of place pin. They made sure I noticed them. I began to feel like I was some kind of pawn on a chess board. The wife was not unattractive, at least I thought she was quite good looking. They had fierce arguments, whereupon I could overhear the screaming at one another day in, day -out. It began to get unbearable. I longed for the evenings, as the wife used to leave office about five pm. One day she rang my doorbell, I let her in. I smiled sweetly. She stared at me with evil eyes like she was going to kill me. After looking around, she left.

I'm sure you want to know the next bit. I have to lock up, after attending to my house locks I will return. We don't know who is around the corner do we ?

Delilah reddit ( pen -name)

Yvette Louise Melech

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